


Lovey

by apostapals (apostapal)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Hawke, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill. Fenris is more cuddly than the angry porcupine look lets on. Hawke loves it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovey

The fact Fenris is so affectionate doesn’t surprise Hawke so much as it occasionally catches them unawares. He moves with purpose in all he does, from combat to card games. Matters of the heart, as well, are under the same treatment.

He kisses like a hurricane, grabbing for Hawke’s face or coat and dragging them in in a flash. He’s never what would qualify as rough but still always carries such an intensity it leaves Hawke dazed and winded when they part.

Hugging is even more involved.

Fenris is strong, Hawke does not doubt this, but the elf’s ability to pick them up at a moment’s notice never truly ceases to surprise them. Not matter their changing build or clothing Fenris never seems to pause.

“I’m home!”

They’re only half expecting Fenris to be there; he comes and goes as he pleases these days. Often, as is no exception tonight, they’ll find him waiting in the library when they return from a trip without him.

Fenris is across the room before Hawke can fully register his presence. He ducks slightly, arms looping around Hawke’s thighs just under their behind, and pulls their feet out from under them and hefts them up into his arms in one motion. Hawke laughs, grabbing his shoulders to balance, and Fenris shifts to hook their legs around his hips. When they get a proper look at his face Hawke finds him smiling like a fool. _Lovesick_ , truly.

“Welcome back.”

Hawke slides their arms down, draping them off his shoulders so they can press their cheek to Fenris’, and sighs fondly.

“Maker, I love your hugs.”

Fenris chuckles, swaying slightly on his feet, and moves one hand to rub his knuckles against Hawke’s back. They melt further into his arms, nearly limp, and hum contently.

“Long day?” he asks and starts back for where he’s been nested in a chair in the library.

Hawke shrugs.

“Didn’t feel like it till now.” they reply lazily, breath tickling Fenris’ ear, “But if you want to just carry me around for the rest of the evening I’m not about to stop you.”

“That could be arranged.” Fenris replies fondly.

Fenris pauses a moment to let Hawke kick off their boots, metal and leather ungracefully piling on the floor next to the fireplace, before he takes a seat again—Hawke still stuck to him and comfortably piling into his lap. It takes a moment to get comfortable even in the over-sized chair but eventually Hawke ends up draped across Fenris’ lap on their back like the human mabari they are, head nestled against his shoulder as he flicks his book open again.

“Where in the world do you keep all that muscle, anyway?” they ask, reaching out to poke at Fenris’ arm—the one they’re not putting to sleep with their head.

Fenris smiles faintly, eyes still on his book, and says, “It took practice to be able to handle things like you.”

“I am a handful.” Hawke replies cheekily.

Fenris cuts his eyes at them, smile widening slightly, and says, “Well, it’s lucky for you I have two hands.”

Hawke just laughs and throws an arm around Fenris’ neck, pulling themselves closer to press their lips to his cheek, his jaw, his ear—until he’s given up on pretending to still be reading entirely and swats at them with the closed novel.

“Don’t make me toss you across the room.” he warns, squirming and fighting laughter when Hawke plants another kiss on the shell of his ear.

“While I don’t doubt your ability there,” Hawke murmurs against his skin, lips pressed to Fenris’ cheek, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’d never toss me anywhere that’d hurt—you’re not that cruel and I’ve had a long day.”

Fenris just swats at them again and chuckles. “Continue testing your luck.” he replies, “You’ll find out how cruel I can be.”

“I do believe I’m well versed in how cruel you can be.”

Hawke nuzzles at Fenris’ ear again as they say this and he laughs—giggles, more like—and tries, in vain, to lean away from Hawke’s face. This only encourages them, as always.

“I am nothing but kind to you, Hawke.”

“Yes,” Hawke shoots back, grinning against his skin, “your capacity for cruelty is quite underwhelming.”

Fenris can’t argue with this. Instead, he simply shifts to cup his hand to Hawke’s cheek and presses his lips to theirs. ’ _Not a cruel bone in you!_ ’ he can hear Hawke saying already. But, at least for the moment, they’re pleasantly distracted.


End file.
